


Trying To Incite A Riot Never Works In Angband

by Anntipasto



Series: Prisoner of Angband [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse of Power, Broken Bones, Degrading Nicknames, F/M, First Age, Master/Slave, Molestation, POV Second Person, Sexual Content, Submissive Character, Why Did I Write This?, back on my bs, controlled eating, not really sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 03:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anntipasto/pseuds/Anntipasto
Summary: You try to get rights for the other human prisoners of Angband. Sauron has other plans for you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tolkien is rolling in his grave and it's my fault. Remember guys: Stop it. Get some help.

You stared, aghast, at the cold, lumpy soup in the bowl in front of you. “Is this all?”

The orc in front of you grunted.

“This can’t be all! I can’t live off of this!”

By now, the other prisoners were staring, fear and reproach the only expressions you saw out of the corners of your eyes. The orc who had brought the food crossed his arms and stared back in what you could only assume was supposed to be an intimidating way. The only intimidating thing about him was his size, and you weren’t concerned.

“I’ve labored all morning-- no breakfast, either, by the way-- and now, come lunch, this is all I get? What’s for dinner, a glass of grimy water?”

“Dinner?” The orc laughed, and you felt something in your stomach sink. “Eat, or you won’t be getting lunch today, either.”

“If you take my lunch, I will refuse to work. Without food, we all will. Right?” You turned your head to get a better look at the support you had expected.

The other prisoners avoided your eye. You spun on your heel to face them properly.

“What are you afraid of? They can’t kill us all. They need us.”

A few of the prisoners glanced at each other, and some made to rise. Others pulled them back down. The door to your large cell opened behind you, and everyone’s eyes shifted to whoever had come in. You ignored it.

“If we don’t fight for our rights now, most of us will end up dropping dead of malnutrition in a few months anyway!”

Someone had caught your eye and was violently making hushing motions as you spoke. You glared at them moments before a hand slid its way down your back, ending cupped around your ass. “You could stand to lose a few pounds, anyway, sweetheart,” a voice purred in your ear.

You jumped forward, twisting and simultaneously trying to slap away the man’s hand. His hand grabbed your wrist before you could, yanking you closer. You cringed away. You knew him. You knew him!

“Sauron,” one of the prisoners cursed quietly.

His eyes, burning into yours only seconds before, flickered over to who had spoken. You didn’t like the gleam that had appeared. You had to do something, fast.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your wrist!” You tried to pull your own wrist free, but he had a much firmer hold than you realized.

Thankfully, your statement caused him to lose interest in the other prisoners. Unfortunately, all his attention was now on you. With a smile, he tangled his free hand in your hair and pulled you onto your toes. He bent down to meet your lips, kissing you forcefully. He let go of your wrist, and you tried to push him away to no avail. His hand grabbed your ass again, squeezing and making you yelp.

After a moment, he pulled you down so you fell at his feet.

“I’m going to _ break _ you, you--”

His eyes were flickering yellow in the dark, and you noticed his pupils were slit like a cat’s as he gave you a look that froze you to the floor. “One thing I love about humans. No matter how much they beg, Mandos can’t take their souls until I’m through.”

Someone in the crowd of prisoners made a noise like a whimper, and you were suddenly able to move again. “You asshole!” Intending to make good on your promise, you found your feet and ignored the patronizing stare Sauron was giving you. He extended his hand towards you, although you were less than a foot away. You knew this wouldn’t end well, but you had to try.

You reached for his wrist, and his hand closed around yours. You immediately kicked your knee up in an attempt to catch him by surprise.

It didn’t work.

He stepped lightly to the side, twisting your wrist upwards until you heard the snap and crumpled to the ground once more. The blood rushed from your head, and you didn’t hear a thing until Sauron grabbed your hair and yanked.

“You,_ sweetheart_, are about to become one of my own _ personal _ thralls.” His breath was hot against your ear, and you tried to pull away. He stood, lifting you slightly up by your hair, and you grabbed his wrist with your good hand in an attempt to lessen the pain. Sauron turned to one of the orc guards. “Kill the rest. We don’t need anyone who’s heard silly ideas about being _ needed _ here.”

Pandemonium filled the room as the group of humans prepared to fight the orcs. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from what had happened, from what you had done, not until you were dragged out the door. As the door shut, sealing the fates of those left behind, you came to your senses a little bit more and began to fight for your life.


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting alone in the darkness of a new, small cell, your tears of pain and frustration long since dried, you were now getting sleepy. You had been dragged a long way from the dungeons where you were kept before, fighting almost all the way. Not that it had made a difference. Now you resided close to where Sauron lived. You wondered how long it would be until he came to call.

You were curled up into a ball, leaning against the wall opposite the cell’s door. Your wrist was pressed up against the freezing wall, but that had done little to numb the pain. The throbbing was tolerable now, though, and you wanted to close your eyes to get some rest--

You woke up slowly, unsure where you were at first. You felt something, something warm, resting against your stomach. It moved, and the material of your shirt was pulled up. Your eyes snapped open. Forgetting the state of your wrist, you tried to push your shirt back down and cried out in pain. Looking to your left, you saw yellow, glowing cat-eyes staring evenly at you from out of the darkness. “Sauron,” you gasped.

“I’ve always preferred the name Mairon.” He continued to remove your shirt as you struggled to stop him. Prisoners weren’t given anything more than an outer layer of clothes. “Tar-Mairon to those under me.” He smirked. “That includes you.”

Tired, far away from anyone who could help you, you simply looked away instead of responding.

“Not so brave when you’re alone?” Sauron tugged your shirt over your head, and you crossed your arms over your chest, pressing your back against the corner of the room. The wall was still cold, although you had been leaning against it for some time.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I’m going to make sure you get everything you deserve.” The words came out edged in poison, and you shivered. He grabbed the waistband of your pants.

“No! Please, don’t.”

“‘Please?’” He repeated, brushing hair from your face as you trembled. “I thought you might be fun to play with, but you may only be fun in front of an audience.”

You bit your lip. He was right; when there was no one around to protect, all of your bravado disappeared.

“Tell me truly, would you fight back?” His fingers slid around the waistband of your ragged pants, tracing the edge.

“I would,” you whispered, staring into the darkness beyond his shoulder.

“Good.” With a ripping sound, your pants were suddenly torn into shorts. “You will receive something proper to wear later. I need to be able to see how much weight you’ve lost. It wouldn’t do to make you so brittle you couldn’t take a stand, but it will be nice to watch you shrink.”

He tossed the clothing scraps where your shirt was, and you hugged your knees to your chest. You stared at your lost clothes with desire, but more so you wouldn’t have to stare at him. It was still cold. You were shivering with the chill, you knew, and the fear.

“Tell me,” he began again, “are you afraid of me?”

“Yes.” You straightened your spine, although your shoulders remained hunched forward protectively.

“Would you stop me?” He cocked an eyebrow as one of his hands slid across your thigh, gradually moving up. It was warm, almost too hot.

You closed your eyes. His hand ran up the outside of your thigh, over your hips, climbing to where your hands were. He grabbed your arms. You made a soft noise of protest, of pain, but he set your arms down on either side of you. His hands felt so good, so warm, but…

Your eyes opened. He was staring directly into them as if he had expected it. “No,” you commanded, crossing your arms over your chest again. 

“I do love a girl with spirit.” One of his fingers languidly lifted your chin. “But you can’t deny me.”

“No,” you warned.

“Yes,” he promised.

His hands slid under your arms, pressed firmly against your breasts. Your face reddened, your brows furrowed.

“And besides,” he hummed, “you enjoy this.”

You were certain he could feel your heart beating through your skin. It made you feel sick. His hands kneaded your flesh, and he was right, it did feel good. Enjoyable, but not with him. “Stop.” Your voice sounded childish in your own ears, and your face reddened further. “I don’t like this.”

“You shouldn’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t.”

You grabbed one of his arms, trying to pull it away, but he pushed it harder into your flesh. His other hand moved to wrap around your thigh, far too close, far, far too close.

“Please, stop,” you whimpered.

He smiled in return. As you sat in shock, his eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, yes.” His warm, terrible hands left your body as he sat back on his heels. “Here’s your meal for the day, since you wouldn’t accept it earlier.”

You stared dismally at the bread Sauron had pulled from his pocket. It looked like it had been baked fresh-- a few weeks ago.

“I would eat quickly if I were you. I have to leave presently, and anything you don’t finish will not be left behind for you.”

Now that he wasn’t touching you, now that there was distance between the two of you, now that it all seemed to be over, you gained a little rebelliousness back. “I can’t live off of this.” The argument that had started it all, the one that had landed you in this situation. You clung to it in an attempt to forget what had just happened, what Sauron had brushed off as easily as flicking off a switch.

“You will. I will be giving you your meals every day after you are done with your morning work. After you eat… Your schedule will be dependent on my schedule for the day.”

You wrapped your bad arm around your breasts, reaching for the bread with the other. Sauron laughed at your attempts to cover yourself up, and your face burned. You could still feel his hands on your body. You bit into the bread with a vengeance. Tearing off a bite took great force, chewing it more so. Still, you were ravenous and managed to finish it swiftly.

Sauron stood.

“Mm,” you said around a mouthful of stale bread. “Water? Please…”

Sauron smiled, crouching back down. “I nearly forgot.”

You swallowed the last of the bread, pieces sticking in your throat. Whatever it was he forgot, you hoped it was water.

He grasped your broken wrist tightly, kissing you at the same time. Your mouth opened in a gasp, and you felt his warm spit being pushed into your mouth.

“Mm!” You tried to pull away, to spit back, but he simply pressed his other hand over your mouth and watched you with the eyes of a predator.

“That’s all you’ll be getting until tomorrow. I suggest you swallow,” he said coldly.

You obediently did so, and he removed his hand. You curled into a ball as he stood.

“See you later, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to bring someone for you to get defensive over next time. You’re cuter when you fight back.”

You shuddered and felt nausea rising in your stomach. The door clanged shut, but you could still see him, still feel him. You crawled back into your shirt, but lay there, gripping your pant legs tightly. Sleep overtook you with time, and you hoped consciousness would not return again.


End file.
